Obsession
by millyxantoinette
Summary: A young journalist lets her obsession for the Joker get a little out of hand. Lemons, smut, language, and general insanity. Don't like, don't read. JokerXOC
1. Crazy

I don't know why I didn't see it coming. For as long as I remember, I showed clear signs of mental...disturbances. Torture and death fascinated me, insanity intrigued me, and murder...well, it was a topic I loved a little too much. I had three people inside my head, not voices, people. My senses were trained to pick up the slightest movements and breaths. Every detail of a person was engraved in my mind. I could manipulate anyone into doing my will.

When the doctors whispered about me behind closed doors, when I heard the words, "It's a true case of psychosis, and she shows serial killer characteristics," I wasn't surprised.

But he did this to me. This is all because of him. My drive to learn about him, my obsession over him, cost me my life.

I was a journalist for the Gotham City Post. When the Joker began terrorizing the city I loved and grew up in, I needed to know about him. He was just like me.

Crazy.

I had to know him and know everything about him. My job stopped ending at five in the evening. It went on until eight in the evening. A few days later, I didn't stop working until midnight. After that, I barely slept. I missed work to do my work. My boss gave me one last chance. I snapped on him in the office. My brother had to pick me up at the hospital. That's when they told him about my condition.

Being the loving brother he is, he took me in. I have my own room and bathroom, both of which is where I spend most of my time. The only time I'm out of those rooms is to eat on occasion and sometimes at night I take walks.

We live in some fairly decent apartments downtown Gotham. My brother is a city worker by day and mobster by night. He's their inside man considering he has unlimited access to the city. My brother is kind of like me, although not quite as messed up.

Tonight he's out with the mob doing business in Philly. It's perfect for me. Tonight, while my brother is away, I'm going to do something crazy.

I'm going to kidnap the Joker.


	2. In The Shadows

His picture was plastered all over my room. Colored pictures, black and white pictures, newspaper stories, magazine articles, you name it. I had it all. Some of the articles I wrote when I worked for the Gotham City Press.

I studied the bumps and cracks in his scarred smile. My fingers ran across the picture and I could feel each raised scar and every crevice.

The shape of his nose was as familiar to me as the shape of a triangle is to a first grader. I know his face. Every shape, straight line, curve, and angle was as known to me as my own face.

What really intrigues me, though, is his eyes. They are dark and dangerous. His eyes hold so many secrets, so many thoughts. There's a whole new world inside his eyes.

I want to be in that world.

Darkness fell upon the city. The building I live in became quiet. Occasional footsteps and creaks broke the silence.

Outside, in the streets, the shadows come alive. My mind raced quietly, preparing myself to be as stealthy and strong as I can be.

At ten thirty-three, I climbed out of my window and into the alley. If you plan to catch a criminal, you have to become a criminal.

The shadows cover my tracks, allowing me complete invisibility. As I walk, my heel hits the ground first and I roll to my toes, making no sound as I step. The fact that I am wearing black, thick socks helps, too. I control my breathing, taking in deep breaths silently through my nose and out my mouth.

Not a thing on my body moves. My long, curly brown hair is in a tight bun, and my clothes are tight and black against my body.

I reach the docks. With each step voices become clearer. One of the smaller warehouses is the source of the sounds. I climb the fire escape to the second level. Between the boarded up window and door, I press my body to the thin metal.

There are three men inside talking. Judging by the occasional pause and certain swearing, I assume they are playing some sort of game, more than likely cards.

I move to the other side of the fire escape. Two more voices. A man and a woman.

"Charlie, please, I don't want to," she begs. Her voice carries fatigue and aggravation.

The man, presumably Charlie, insists further on having sex. An argument sparks up and he leaves. The woman sighs, begins to cry, and eventually her noises disappear.

So far, no trace of the Joker.

He sat in the shadow, running his fingers along the blade of his knife and licking his lips. The strange young woman listened in on the warehouse where his goons resided. He could barely see her, for she was nearly completely covered in black and hidden well in the shadows. The moonlight had caught her face once, though, which gave him enough of a glance to follow her, even in the dark.

He had to admit, she was good at what she does. She had been following him for weeks, staying nearly invisible. He wasn't sure why, though. He knew at first why she was following him. She was a reporter and she was writing about him. He had also known that shortly after that she had lost her job. Now, it was either curiosity or obsession that drove her to continue pursuing him. Or both? Either way, he was going to find out.

I descend the fire escape without making a sound. That's when I hear the sound of the sole of a shoe touching the ground. I crouch in the shadow between two buildings and flatten myself against one side.

The shoes stop. I silence myself completely, even willing my heart to slow.

I let myself relax as I am once again surrounded by silence.

"A pretty thing like you shouldn't be out alone at night."


	3. Fight For Your Life

Without thinking about it, my muscles fire and begin defending myself. As my right foot shoots backwards into his groin, my right elbow spins and collides with his jaw.

Bending over in pain, he cackles. "You're a fighter, I like that."

The sound of a blade being drawn rings out in the night and my adrenaline explodes. Without blinking, I deflect the arm holding the blade and restrain the Joker on the ground.

He cackles again. "Mmm, already holding me down, I just might keep you around."

Then, as if the world is stopping just for us, he stops moving beneath my body. Our eyes meet and I begin diving into his world. The first thing I encounter is screaming. Men, women, and children. Their voices ring out in my head and his.

He must have felt me in his world for my body begins to lift off the ground. A hand clasps around my throat and my back meets the cold, hard steel of the warehouse.

"You're mine now," he sneers.

Fear doesn't even touch my mind. I smirk, "Oh really?"

My hand grabs a fistful of his hair and forces his head back. His grip around my throat loosens and I feel my feet land on the concrete.

"I've come here to steal you, Joker. You will become mine."

As I laugh while preparing to tie up the dazed criminal, a gun connects harshly to the back of my head and blackness eats me alive.


	4. Wrong Answer

Consciousness slowly came to me. My eyes cracked open to give me a sliver of blurry vision. Smells began creeping into my nose, smells that made my brain race to figure out where I was. Fish, sweat, metal, sweat, blood. These were the prominent smells attacking my senses.

Next, my ears began picking up sounds. Muffled voices. People were in the same building, but not anywhere near the room I am in. Typical sounds of running water, buzzing lights, and the light pitter-patter of rat's feet filled in the background. What was interesting were the foot steps heading toward the room. They were still distant, though.

My vision came back completely and I could see my surroundings. Dingy old sheets and blankets were thrown about the pile of sponge mattresses and over-sized pillows that I was laying on. There was a broken table, a desk, a recliner, and an office chair about the room. Books and papers covered the desk and broken table.

The footsteps grew nearer and nearer. Now was the time to decide to "play dead" or be wide awake when the person enters the room.

The handle twisted and the door opened.

Well, looks like it's option B.

"Well well well," cackled a familiar voice. The Joker stood in front of me, grinning that grin I loved. "Looks like you're awake." He closed and locked the door behind him. "I think we need to have a little chat."

"You, young lady, have some explaining to do. You've been following me for quite some time now, and I think you need to tell me why. Now, I know you were a reporter and I know you got fired, so, you can either tell me that you have a slight obsession, or that you are just too curious for your own good." As he spoke, the Joker paced, flipping a small blade through his fingers.

"I'm obsessed with you," I admitted bluntly. "I'm just like you and I was going to steal you tonight."

He stopped in his tracks.

Dark eyes landed on me.

Not the answering he was expecting?


End file.
